


Love Among the Potion Vials

by wendiferous



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Body Positive, Body Positive Sex, Cross-Generation Relationship, Exhibitionism, Fat Character, Fat Sex, Humiliation, M/M, Mind Sex, Oral Sex, Praise Kink, Sex, Sort Of, Verbal Humiliation, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-02
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:46:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27829927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wendiferous/pseuds/wendiferous
Summary: Horace has a naughty secret- he's lusting after Snape! When Snape finds out, what will happen? Sex, probably.
Relationships: Horace Slughorn/Severus Snape
Comments: 7
Kudos: 14





	1. Caapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ada_Lovelaced](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ada_Lovelaced/gifts).



> This fic is the result of a dumb internet meme and my enduring love of Slughorn, and also too many conversations with ada_lovelaced. This fic is for them, with much affection!

Horace Slughorn sat in the staff lounge, ensconced in an enormous wingback chair, feet propped up in front of him on an overstuffed ottoman. He sighed, and took a sip of tea from the cup that was held in one hand, and let the other fall over the side of the chair. The fire next to him was roaring, the room was lit with glinting wall sconces, and to all the world, he looked like he was merely having a relaxing sit in the staff lounge after a long day of classes, sitting without a care in the world, totally unconcerned by anything. The other staff in the room paid him no mind- he was just an old man relaxing.

The reality was a little different. Horace knew he was a dirty old man, but it didn’t matter. He couldn’t help himself. Every Thursday, at this time, he came to the staff lounge and got himself nice and comfortable, and waited. Even the waiting gave him a thrill of excitement as he sat- the anticipation was tremendous. 

He took another sip of his tea, and wiggled just a little in his chair, sinking deeper into the deeply cushioned seat. Perfection. Any time now, he’d be ready.

The rest of the staff began to drift in. Slughorn nodded at Flitwick, and at Minerva, as they came in together, deep in conversation about Head of House business. It was nice to be back with fewer responsibilities- he didn’t miss the extra tasks that being Head of Slytherin had forced upon him when he had taught at Hogwarts before. He did, he would admit to himself, miss the bathroom in the Head of Slytherin suite. It had been just opulent, with its huge obsidian tub sunk deep into the black marble floor, and the waterfall shower that mimicked a real waterfall, but was always the perfect temperature and pressure.

Hooch let herself into the room, and went straight to her usual corner. They exchanged nods, but Horace had a routine. He wasn’t here for conversation on Thursdays. At least, not conversation with Hooch.

Right on schedule, the door to the staff lounge was flung open with a bang, and in walked Severus Snape, in high dudgeon. His black robes swirled around him, his dark eyes were narrowed into a frown, and his hair draped dramatically in front of his face, his nose on prominent display. He was simply ravishing.

Horace felt himself begin to thicken from that first moment Snape entered the room, his penis rising from quiescence to a more interested state. He adjusted his seat in the chair, wiggling himself into the perfect position to enjoy the show. He smiled to himself, ruminating on the many perks of the round belly that sloped gently in front of him, not least among which was the ability to hide burgeoning erections while in public. Yes, he absolutely was a dirty old pervert, but he needed his little pleasures, and this was the highlight of his week.

Snape looked around the room, found almost no empty chairs except for the one that just so happened to be across from one Horace Slughorn, as it always was on Thursdays, and threw himself into it with a whirl of black robes and black hair. He glowered at the room around him, and Slughorn felt himself thicken further, his penis beginning to take a real interest in the proceedings. Snape was so beautiful when he was angry.

“Today,” said Snape, his voice dripping with venom, yet somehow still oh so appealing, “someone asked me if it was true that you could use Doxies to remove pimples. Apparently,” here he sneered, and Slughorn mentally jumped up and down for joy. “SOMEONE told them when they were a first year that allowing a doxy to bite you on the face would ensure that the area remained blemish free. When I asked who on earth had told them such a ridiculous piece of nonsense, they had the gall to tell me that it was none other than Gilderoy Lockhart. If that man weren’t already in Saint Mungos…” he trailed off, eyes flashing, leaving no one in doubt of just what he was thinking of doing to that poor man. 

Slughorn was fully erect at this point. He loved angry Snape, he was such a delight, and Snape when he was contemplating violence- divine. He was such a sight to behold.

Acutely aware of his erection straining up into the underside of his stomach, Slughorn stoked the fire a little, hoping to provide a reaction.

“Well, Severus, we can’t all be you as a teacher, now can we! I was just saying to my sixth years today what a lucky group they were, to have learned from a Master such as yourself! And you’ve clearly done a wonderful job with them- Miss Granger and Mister Potter alone would be enough to be proud of in one class, nevermind all the other bright young minds you’ve clearly shaped over the years!” Horace watched with satisfaction as Snape’s face contorted during his sentence. A blush had sprung up on his pale features when Horacen had complimented him, to be replaced with the flush of anger when he heard the students Horace was choosing to give him credit for. Horace was no fool. He knew precisely how Snape felt about both of them, and whatever success they were having in potions, it was in spite of Snape, not because of him, but it was just so pleasing to see Severus react like that.

Snape’s sneer overtook his entire expression.

“If Potter has managed to somehow find success in your class, it’d be best to partner him with someone else. I’m sure he never found any talent for potions while with me.” His tone was frosty, and Slughorn became more and more aware of the growing wet spot on the silk briefs he wore specially on Thursdays, as his erection was now leaking with anticipation. This was what he loved- the sweet torment, the secrecy, the strange combination of exhibitionism, being hard in such a public place, and voyeurism, looking up Snape in such a sexual manner, with no else being the wiser.

So lost was he in the contemplation of his own pleasure that he didn’t notice the brief narrowing of Snape’s eyes, the intense concentration, and then the brief touch of another mind upon his own. Snape’s eyes widened almost imperceptibly, a look of surprise upon his face, but then Horace turned his attention back to Snape, and by the time Horace was paying attention again, Snape had schooled his expression back into his characteristic sneer, and had launched into another tirade on the incompetence of students as a whole, while Horace cheerily looked on, blithely unaware that Snape had seen exactly what he was thinking earlier.


	2. Chapter 2

Horace had just settled in for a nightcap in his quarters with a glass of fancy brandy that someone or other had gifted him years ago, and was just coming into maturity, when he felt a curious twanging against his wards. Someone was outside his door- and not a student, or it’d be a chime from the small snake statue on his bookshelf.

Horace stood, wrapped himself more firmly in his flowing maroon bathrobe, which had been another gift, he didn’t remember from who, and went to open the door, firmly prepared to be disapproving of whoever was on the other side. He did NOT enjoy being interrupted during his pre-bedtime rituals.

His determination to be disappointed vanished when he opened the door and saw Severus standing there, arms crossed over his chest, still wearing his imposing black robes. 

“Severus!” he said, with genuine surprise and pleasure. “What brings you here tonight? Come in, come in.” Horace stepped back from the door and gestured into his quarters, which were currently lit by the large, crackling fire in the fireplace.

Severus swept in without saying anything, and settled into the large, plush sofa opposite from Horace’s chair in front of the fire. Horace pressed a glass of brandy into Severus’s hands, which he accepted without a word. 

Horace settled down into his chair once more, with his brandy. It was reminiscent enough of the position that they’d been in his afternoon that Horace felt his penis give a hopeful little twitch. As much as he’d enjoyed his conversation with Snape earlier, once he’d gotten back to his rooms, he’d been unable to recapture that feeling, and try as he might, he’d been unable to maintain an erection for long enough to bring himself to orgasm. He wasn’t unduly concerned- at his age, that happened sometimes, and there’d always be more Thursdays in the staff room to inspire him.

However, faced here with Severus not five feet from him, he was filled again with anticipation, despite the lack of an audience. Huh. Perhaps it was just Snape himself then, and not the situation. Perhaps Horace was just-

He was cut off from his internal musings as Snape finally spoke.

“You may wish to recall, Horace, that along with being a licensed Potions Master, I also studied for some years under Albus Dumbledore himself learning the art of Legilimency.”

Severus’s voice was smooth and velvety, and full of no small amount of disdain. Horace felt himself perk up further, and had to remind himself that Snape was not here for sex.

“Actually,” said Snape, once again interrupting his internal musings. “I am. That’s what I was trying to say.”

Horace froze. He replayed the last bit of conversation in his head, and paired his thoughts with what Snape was saying aloud now. Did that mean that earlier in the staff room-

“Yes,” said Snape. “Yes, I saw all of your thoughts earlier today. You filthy old man. Did you think you would get away with it? Perving on a younger man, one who used to be your student?”

Horace squirmed. His erection was making a valiant return, but at the reminder that Severus had once been his student, he began to deflate a little. That wasn’t part of the appeal. Thankfully, this mind reading business really did have some advantages.

“Oh, no, that’s not it. Well, the younger man bit might be, but it’s not the main appeal. You like it when I’m mean. You like to hear me rip apart someone else, betray their ignorance to the world. You like to watch me sneer- are you hoping I’ll turn my attentions to you? Take you apart with only my words? Point out what a dirty old man you are for lusting after me in such a way, in such a public space?” Snape’s every word dripped derision, and the full strength of his displeasure was available on his face.

Horace was extremely aroused. His erection that he’d struggled to maintain not three hours ago had fully returned, and he looked down to see with some embarrassment that he had leaked through his bathrobe, and the area right in front of his groin had become wet with precome in a way that was definitely visible, even in the low light. He could feel it once again straining against the lower curve of his stomach. He felt lightheaded. He couldn’t believe Snape was here in his quarters, saying these things.

“Did you jerk off afterwards, thinking of me, wishing I was there to belittle you? Ah, no, I see you couldn’t quite get there. Imagination’s never as good as the real thing, is it?” Horace could only stare. He hadn’t been this hard in years, not even during his clandestine sessions of watching Snape on Thursdays.

Snape got up from where he’d been sitting on the couch, and loomed over Horace, looking down at him, his hair falling in his face, his dark eyes glinting in the firelight. Horace looked up at him, and swallowed, maintaining eye contact the whole time.

In a single, fluid motion, Snape dropped to his knees in front of Horace. With long, gentle fingers, he put a hand on each of Horace’s legs, and pulled his legs apart. Horace sucked in a breath. This was not how he had envisioned his night going, but here he was, about to get everything he’d ever wanted.

Snape reached a hand out further, and pulled back the panels of Horace’s bathrobe, exposing the lower half of his stomach and his erection. Horace slumped in his chair, changing the angle slightly so that his stomach would be more out of the way if Snape decided he wanted to interact with his penis in a more hands on way. Merlin, he hoped he did.

Snape looked at his erection for a long minute, and then reached out a single finger to touch the tip of it, which glistened with precome. Horace gasped, and his penis strained towards Snape, desperate for more touch.

“Why, Horace,” Snape murmured. “Look at this. You ARE a dirty old man who gets off on me being mean to him. But as long as I’ve got you here, perhaps I should do something about this.”

With that parting comment, Snape leaned forward, and put his mouth around the tip of Horace’s erection, his nose butting into the soft flesh of Horace’s stomach. Horace whimpered, and slouched down further to give Snape better access. He slid his hands into Snape’s hair, and Snape began to move his head up and down, his tongue swirling around the firm flesh. At the soft, warm sensations building his arousal higher and higher, Horace began to babble.

“Yes, Severus, Merlin, your mouth is so good, so soft. I love hearing you talk, love hearing you say those things, I always hoped you would say them to me.” 

Snape moaned around his mouthful, the vibrations causing Horace to shudder with pleasure, and Horace saw him slip his hand into his own robes, and begin fisting at his own cock. He was as hard as Horace, which emboldened him, and had him keep talking, spewing sweet, adoring nothings into Snape’s ear. 

“Yes, you’re right, I’ve been- I’ve been a dirty pervert, and you’re so, so good to me, so perfect, so beautiful, I can’t believe you’re here, doing this to me-” Horace gave out a sharp cry as Snape began moving his head faster, and using the hand not wrapped around his own cock to begin masturbating Horace’s erection as well. Horace knew he could not last long under this onslaught.

“Snape!” he ejaculated, and then he was coming into Severus’s warm, pliant mouth, his hips lifting off the chair to try and fit just a little bit more into that beautiful, clever man’s ministrations.

Snape pulled off his cock with a loud groan, having swallowed Horace’s emission. Horace’s hands were still petting at his hair, at his cheeks and his mouth, unwilling to completely be done with the experience that was his mouth. Snape was pulling at his cock in earnest now, and after only a moment more, he gave a soft cry, and came all over Horace’s gray slippers, his head falling to the chair in between Horace’s thighs.

The room was silent but for their slowing breaths and the crackling of the fire, and they stayed like that, Horace petting Severus’s hair, for long moments, until their breathing evened out, and despite their awkward positions, they both drifted into sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apparently when I get stressed I return to this, my most ridiculous fic. Enjoy!

It had been a week to the day since Snape had shown up in Horace’s chambers, and fulfilled just about every fantasy he’d ever had about the man. Horace had been in somewhat of a daze since then- teaching his classes, grading his papers, but mostly just going through the motions.

He and Snape had seen each other at mealtimes, and Snape had given him a curt nod when they’d passed each other in the hallways, both occupied with other students, but they hadn’t really had time to talk. At mealtimes, they didn’t habitually sit near each other- Horace sat with Minerva and Hooch, down at the far end, and Snape was generally next to Dumbledore. They’d done little more than exchange greetings in a week, and yet Horace could still remember with complete clarity the expression on Snape’s face as he’d come, gasping Horace’s name, not one week before.

Horace was nervous about the afternoon after classes- so much so that he didn’t dare have his students brewing today, but instead set them to reading a chapter. He was frazzled and distracted, and knew he wouldn’t be able to supervise any sort of brewing, or he’d end up with a classroom of exploded cauldrons. 

As his students read more or less quietly, he sat at his desk, musing to himself. Should he go to the staff room, sit in his regular chair, and pretend last week hadn’t happened? Should he skip it? Would he look more or less pathetic if he showed up, or if he skipped?

He had just made up his mind to go to the staff room, awkwardness be damned, when Madame Pomfrey’s whale shark patronus burst through the back wall of his classroom, swimming quickly up to his desk.

“Horace, there’s been a terrible quidditch accident. We need new Skele-gro, at once! I’m about to use the last dose just as I’m sending this.” Her voice was urgent, although not panicked. Still, Horace knew Poppy well enough that if she was interrupting class like this, then the situation really was urgent.

“Class dismissed,” he said, with a wave of his hand. The students had all been silent during the message, straining to hear the message from Pomfrey. As he dismissed them, they broke into a buzz of chatter, no doubt speculating on who was injured. Horace paid them no mind. His mind was already deep into his brewing, as he made his way to the storage chambers. He’d need to make sure everything was well stocked, and probably want to use his good nickel cauldron as well-- 

He allowed himself a brief pang of regret. It seemed he was not to see Severus this afternoon after all. Shoving that feeling aside, he rolled up his sleeves, and got to work.

*

Horace returned to his rooms late that night. It had been an exhausting day of brewing. He’d stood over a steaming cauldron for 6 hours, sweating profusely, as he tended to the exacting brew. Skele-gro was a demanding potion. In most cases it could be made in stages, as there were several moments during the brewing where it could be safely left unattended for long stretches of time. Today, however, he had not had that luxury, and had needed to complete the entire process in one long go. He was totally spent.

He opened the door to his quarters, and collapsed into his favorite green velvet armchair. He closed his eyes. He knew he should shower, or at least cast some freshening charms on himself, and change into his pajamas as well, but he was just so tired. He’d just sit here for one moment more…

A soft sound managed to pierce his haze of tiredness, and he looked up to see what had made it. Standing in his quarters, in the doorway to his bedchamber, was none other than Severus Snape.

Severus raised an eyebrow at Horace, who was somewhat slow to react to the presence of another person in his room. 

“Ah, Severus,” he said, trying to gather himself up into something more presentable than he felt. “I’m afraid I’m ah, not quite up to anything today. Skele-gro for Poppy took up my afternoon, although I did miss you in the staff room today…” he trailed off, mortified. Had he admitted to missing Snape? In the same breath as telling him that he was too tired for anything remotely resembling sex? He was getting sappy and embarrassing in his old age. Next he’d be buying Snape flowers!

Snape peered at him, dark eyes intent, and Horace was too tired to even blank his mind. Let Severus see what he wanted to see- that Horace was tired, and ready for bed, and didn’t care what Snape thought of it.

Snape chuckled, amused at what he found in Horace’s mind. Before Horace quite knew what was happening, he felt a warm hand under his elbow, and he was being hauled up and gently steered in the direction of his bedroom.

Horace protested.

“No, really, Severus, while I am flattered by your interest, I really am incredibly tired, and there is just no chance of that sort of thing happening tonight- it’s a physical impossibility, really.”

Horace felt Severus’s chuckle against his back, just as he realized that he was not being steered toward the bed, but rather to the ensuite bathroom that was accessible through his bedchambers.

Once in the bathroom, he could have cried with joy. Snape had filled the corner tub made of black marble with steaming hot water, and a preposterous amount of the eucalyptus and tea tree oil scented foam that he preferred. How Severus had known where to find his stash of expensive bath products, Horace had no idea, and he had never been less interested in dwelling on it. 

Gentle hands unbuttoned his robes, and Horace pulled himself out of his stupor long enough to shrug off his robe, and then rather ungracefully step out of his pants, steadied the whole time by Severus’s warm presence at his elbow. Once he was completely nude, and too tired to feel any self consciousness about being naked in front of Severus, he was guided up the small set of marble steps carved into the side of the tub, and then- bliss.

Hot, scented water engulfed Horace. His whole body was wrapped in a warm, watery embrace. The foam was a cool, tingly contrast to the water, which was just the right side of too hot. He leaned his head back into the charmed headrest, seemingly carved of the same black marble as everything else in his tub, but somehow always perfectly supportive and comfortable. He stretched himself out, and felt his back pop in a couple of key places. He let out a groan of pleasure. This was heaven.

He was distracted from his basking by a slight splash. While he’d been luxuriating in the first moment of sinking into the bath, Severus had rolled up his trousers and robe, and was now perched on the side of the tub, allowing his feet and shins to be submerged in the water next to Horace’s side. He looked rather ridiculous- his robes, still buttoned up to his throat, were untouched, but his feet and legs were bare and pale against the dark marble.

Horace smiled up at him, too relaxed and content to care about the impression he wanted to make. Severus gave him a small smile back, before surprising Horace even more as he shrugged off his out robes, and then removed his shirt entirely.

Horace did not think he’d ever been happier. A hot bath, a shirtless man, and no responsibilities. It was divine. His pleasure only increased when Severus conjured a soft, fluffy white washcloth and with a wave of his hand, set it bubbling. 

Horace relaxed into the bubbles further, sighting in deep contentment, as Severus began to rub the washcloth over his body. He was unable to keep from moaning as Severus slowly dragged the slick, soapy cloth over his chest, brushing against his sensitive nipples, and then down over his stomach. He cleaned between his legs matter of factly, just gentle, cleansing motions of the cloth, not intended to arouse, before adjusting on the edge of the tub to be able to better reach Horace’s legs.

Horace’s groin gave a slight clench as Snape passed the washcloth over his soft penis, but despite that, he knew there was no way he was going to be able to achieve an erection tonight. Snape, on the other hand…

Horace risked a glance over at Severus’s groin. Severus was busy running the cloth over Horace’s calves, and did not notice Horace’s peek at his trousers. There was a noticeable bulge under the trousers, where his erection strained against the fabric of his pants.

This pleased Horace tremendously. It pleased him so tremendously, in fact, that although he was still too tired to do much of anything on his end, he figured there was no reason why he couldn’t explore a little, since Snape was right there. Feeling bold, he lifted a hand out of the water, and set it directly on Snape’s waistband, ready to undo the buttons of his trousers.

Severus hissed in a breath, and stopped his washing of Horace’s calves. He looked back at Horace, again with a quirked eyebrow.

“I thought you were too tired,” he said. His voice was low and silky, and Horace shivered a little. Despite his lack of arousal, this was turning into an excellent night.

“I may be tired, yes,” said Horace, “But clearly you’re not. After you went to all this trouble of drawing a bath for me, it’s the least I could do, really.” He let the tease enter his voice just a tad, hoping to bring out a playful side of Severus.

To his astonishment, it seemed to work. Severus gave him the same small smile he’d received earlier, and scooted along the tub so he was closer to Horace.

“Indeed,” he murmured. “Well, I suppose if you wanted, to thank me, that could be arranged.” As he spoke he slid his washcloth up Horace’s outstretched arm, sliding the soft fabric against his skin until he reached his hand, which was still resting on Severus’s flies.

Horace gently unbuttoned Severus, and was astonished to see that he wasn’t wearing any pants. 

“Oh, my Severus,” he breathed, getting a good look at Snape’s cock for the first time. It was long and thick, and bent slightly to the left in a way that Horace just knew would feel incredible in his mouth. His mouth watered a bit at the thought of having Severus’s erection inside of it, but he discarded that thought as too much work. Some other time, perhaps, when he hadn’t been brewing all afternoon.

Instead, he plucked the washcloth from Snape’s hand, which had gone slack and unresisting, and wrapped the soft fabric against Severus’s erection. Snape let out a soft grunt, which Horace took as an encouraging sign. He rubbed up and down with the fabric a little bit, more of a tease than anything else, as he didn’t want to accidentally chafe any sensitive skin.

He kept this up for about as long as he thought he could get away with it, enjoying the way Severus tilted his head back, the way his breathing sped up, and how his hands clenched into fists on the side of the tub as he struggled to keep his balance perched on the edge.

Once he’d had enough fun with the washcloth, he dropped it unceremoniously onto the floor, and scooped up a handful of foam from his bath. Snape moaned in protest at the loss of contact on his cock, but his moans quickly turned back into sounds of pleasure and Horace slicked the foam up and down Severus’s erection. Horace knew from personal experience that the foam was absolutely delightful as a masturbation aid, since it was charmed to be exactly the temperature and texture you wanted it-- and the charmwork extended to uses other than as a soft scented bath addition. 

It took only a few moments before Snape was gasping, and spilling into the tub and across Horace’s chest. Horace was delighted. Severus looked slightly embarrassed.

“I-- thank you,” he said, still catching his breath. “Although I probably should have asked first, before, you know.” He gestured at the mess of his semen on Horace’s chest.

Horace ran his fingers through it, and then dunked in hand into the tub.

“Nonsense, I’m in the bath! Easy cleanup. Speaking of which- you’re looking a big sweaty there yourself, m’boy. Any chance I can convince you to join me?” Horace let a hopeful note creep into his voice. It really would be nice to have Severus in the tub with him.

After a moment’s hesitation, Severus stripped his trousers off fully, and climbed into the tub so he was sitting opposite Horace. The tub immediately expanded to accommodate the additional person, and the two men lay opposite each other, both in perfect contentment, for quite some time.


End file.
